


Kara and Lee do the Oscars

by coffeesuperhero



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack, F/M, no_takebacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-16
Updated: 2010-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-12 17:25:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/127225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coffeesuperhero/pseuds/coffeesuperhero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was written as two separate cracky comment!fics over at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/no_takebacks/profile">No Takebacks</a> on LJ. This isn't for profit, just for fun! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Kara and Lee do the Oscars

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as two separate cracky comment!fics over at [No Takebacks](http://community.livejournal.com/no_takebacks/profile) on LJ. This isn't for profit, just for fun! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries.

Lee can't help but feel a little overwhelmed and a lot out of place on the red carpet, especially when Ryan Seacrest strolls over, gives him a friendly grin, and shoves a microphone in his face, asking him about what he's wearing and what it feels like to be here with Kara Thrace, whether or not he thinks she'll win an award. He mumbles something about his suit, about how great it is to be here, how proud of Kara he is, and then he's shoved to the side and forgotten when Kara steps into view. Not that Lee can really blame them much for wanting to talk to her-- not only is Kara Hollywood's newest Big Thing, but she looks like a dream in the white dress that her stylist talked her into, the one that offers Lee (and the rest of the world, he thinks, with a sudden surge of possessive jealousy) a stunning view of her legs. He has no idea how he's supposed to sit next to her through this entire damn awards show when she looks like she does tonight. He had told her as much in the limo on the way over here, but she had just smiled one of her more wicked smiles, leaned in close, and said, "Anticipation's a real pain in the ass, huh?"

Kara wraps her interview and steps back to him, her bare arm sliding against the smooth fabric of his tuxedo jacket as she slips her arm into the crook of his elbow. "For a second there, I thought our friend Ryan was gonna ask for your number," she jokes, bumping her hip into his, nearly running them right into another couple of attendees. "Sorry!" Kara calls out as Lee steers them toward the entrance of the building. She glances back over her shoulder and then looks up at Lee, wide-eyed. "Holy fuck, Lee, was that Brad Pitt?"

"Yes, and the lady you almost impaled with your high heel was Angelina," Lee says.

"Goddamn, I need a drink. Do we really have to go in there? God, Lee, I'm not gonna win," she says, laughing nervously, like it's not a big deal, like she doesn't really give a damn. There was a time, years ago, when Lee might have bought the act, but they've been together long enough now that he knows exactly what Kara's particular brand of false bravado sounds like. Perhaps more importantly, he knows exactly how to keep her mind off of whatever's troubling her.

"I'll make you a deal," Lee says, leaning over to whisper into her ear. "If you take home one of those little gold men tonight? I get whatever I want from you. At the wrap party."

She grins up at him. "Oh yeah? And what happens if I lose?"

"You're still taking me home," he shrugs, laughing. "I think I can remember how to make you feel like a winner."

**

Lee thinks that it's probably some kind of miracle that they make it through the entire ceremony without sneaking off to find a dark corner. Her face may be picture of perfect innocence as she sits next to him, staring straight ahead, laughing at all the host's jokes, but Kara has him squirming through the whole damn awards show, quietly driving him crazy with every surreptitious slide of her hand against his thigh.

"I know what you're doing," he hisses, as they applaud the nominees for Best Supporting Actor. "Cut it out."

She pretends to accidentally drop her clutch into his lap and gives him a lascivious wink as she reaches over to pick it up, taking the opportunity to run her hand over the bulge in his trousers. "Oops," she says, laughing as he shifts uncomfortably in his seat and makes something of a show of devoting all of his attention to the new round of presenters.

Kara's award ends up going to Charlize Theron, and while he can tell she's disappointed, she seems happy enough about her evening, especially when her movie gets Best Picture and she gets to take the stage with the rest of the cast and crew. Hours later, they're at a party at some director's house, possibly Kara's director, he's not even sure anymore, when she pulls him into a bathroom and locks the door behind them.

"I know I didn't win," she says, pushing him down onto some designer couch in the outer half of the room, "but that just means I get whatever I want from you, instead of it being the other way around, right?"

"I'm pretty sure that's the way that works," Lee nods, hardly even caring that there are hundreds of people at this party. "Why don't you let me help you out of that ridiculous dress, huh?"

She shakes her head. "Let's leave it on for now," she says, sinking carefully into his lap. "Speaking of the dress, though, I do have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Lee says, more of a well-articulated moan than anything else, all he can manage as the inside of her thigh slides against his erection. He runs his hands up under her dress, tracing her hips with his fingers, and she squirms a little, just like he's been doing all night.

Kara grins and nips at his ear, her hands working the buttons of his vest and trousers open while he teases her, slipping one finger under the band of her underwear, tracing her clit until she's moaning, too. "I heard you talking to my director earlier," she says, unzipping his trousers as fast as she can. "You wanted to know how in the world my stylist talked me into this fucking ridiculous dress, right?" She's got her hand wrapped around his dick now, her thumb tracing lazy circles over the head, and all he can do is nod. She leans down and speaks directly into his ear. "She told me it would drive you crazy," Kara murmurs, still stroking him with agonizing slowness.

"Fuck, I think she deserves a raise," Lee groans, and that's all Kara lets him say for the next several minutes, during which Lee is absolutely certain that the entire party probably knows what they're doing. He doesn't care. As long as he's with her, he always feels like he's winning, and from the brilliant smile on her face when they slip back down to the party later, she feels the same way about him.


End file.
